The Watcher King: Act One, The Shadow War
by Lost Socks and Leprechauns
Summary: Yami found his memories and walked into the light, the ancient games have been tamed, and the Pharaoh's court is assembling, but things don't always work as planned, and this isn't the 'happily ever after' anyone imagined. T to be safe
1. A Ripple in Time

**AN**. This is the beginning of an arc, a story called the Watcher King. This chapter will appear in the beginning of each part. Act One and Act Two are related but not dependant on each other. Act Three will follow both.

This introduction uses the series intro (season one of the dubbed version) as a reference, but I own nothing.

Subsequent chapters will be significantly longer.

Any author's notes after this will be at the bottom of the page unless they're about updates.

Also, I'm very slow posting unless someone gets on my case, so if you want more updates please review!

Please R&R

* * *

**A Ripple in Time**

Long ago, in the age of myths, arose a power, known as the Shadows. Harnessed by kings and priests, these Shadows guarded the lands and people. But as with all powers, it became sought by those who would use it for ill. A war threatening to destroy the world erupted between the kings of men and the dark-driven usurpers, ending only when a great and powerful Pharaoh arose, and with his priests, locked the magic away in the mystical Millennium Items.

Or so the story goes. Nothing more is known.

The ancient Shadows were ripped from the annals of history. They were all but lost.

What became of that great king, and those brave priests, none can say, but their acts and spirits echo throughout history.

One can only wonder at their story.

* * *

_tbc_


	2. Scene One

**AN.** Sort of important – the 'family/friends reject Yugi for no apparent reason' plot is well used, and usually badly. I hate it. I've yet to see anyone give a decent reasoning for it and it pisses me off – not only are almost all characters out of character, but they switch out of their out-of-character-ness becoming an OoC OoC, which is just painful to read... But plot devices which have been beaten to death with their own foot can be revived if they're used properly, and I'm hoping to do something unique. So if I make a bung of it please let me know. It's called constructive criticism, and that I love. Thank you.

~Lost Socks and Leprechauns

_Italics indicate a change in language._

* * *

**Prologue**: A short sequence to be explained at a much later date.

* * *

The class was nervous. Not an unusual occurrence by any stretch – they'd never quite adjusted to the lecture hall fixtures spontaneously combusting or otherwise imploding in the presence of their young professor, and they likely never would – but it was odd that there were several dark priests (aside from the usual one) in the room, and they were all giving the projector screen rather suspicious glares.

The professor for his part seemed rather put out.

"Look, it's just a bloody door. I know where it goes, why it's here, and what needs doing. It'll be five minutes, tops."

"But you don't know-"

"Yes, actually I do, Malik, and if you'd just calm down and let me explain-"

"But you can't know what will happen! You could be killed!"

"MALIK." The quickly panicking priest froze along with all under twenty years of age. "I have spent years working with these. Travelling, researching, studying – never mind everything from before! I know. Every. Single. Last. Little. Detail. I know how it works. I know where it goes. I know what I will find. There is some uncertainty, but by far less than in our usual... outings. I am going to use it, because as much as I hate to admit it, the grinning idiot has a point." The professor gave the window his best glower. And sighed, defeated. "At least someone might be spared."

The priest, Malik blinked, and stared balefully at his feet.

"Alright. –But should they really be here?"

"If no one twitched when the podium blew up last week they'll be fine now."

Silence reigned for a moment in the half light.

A white line blazed across the canvas screen and opened outwards, revealing a light bright as the sun, fire and gold.

"He couldn't come up with anything subtle for once, could he?" The professor snorted and strode into the light.

A handful of the braver students would later claim he'd laughed.

* * *

"_Paths, once crossed, remain crossed."_

_**The Watcher King, Act One**_

* * *

Scene 1: Flawed Design

Sitting by the half shuttered little window watching the clouds pass by, he wondered how it had come to this.

And just what the hell had happened?

It was a question Yugi Mutou, formerly of Domino, had been asking a lot lately.

It had begun with Yami, as most things in his life usually did, and the ceremonial battle. A card game – what kind of thing was that to measure if one person was strong enough to live their life or if someone else had to end theirs? Who exactly had decided that? But it didn't matter now. Yugi had won. He didn't 'need' Yami anymore. What came after had only proven that.

Yami had walked into the light. And then... they'd never quite figured that out. The light had seemed to _ripple_ and Yami stepped back out, looking more confused than anything. They could only determine was that it wasn't his time to go, or that maybe this was his reward. All that was certain was that Yami was there to stay, and they rejoiced.

For a little while, anyway.

There'd been some work to do after that. Yami needed to adjust to being his own person, apart from Yugi – they'd almost needed a crowbar to separate the two. He'd needed an identity and a past. (Courtesy of Seto) They'd invented family, schooling, medical files, and everything else he might need to get by. The world may have just experienced a near apocalypse, complete with fire storms around the globe and monsters roaming the streets, but it probably still wouldn't accept 'ancient pharaoh reborn' as a reason for not having social insurance.

Identity completed, with Yami formally adopted and a Mutou, they returned home just with just enough time to catch up on courses and write their third year exams.

He'd given Yami space. He needed to grow, and they were both too dependent on each other already. They'd all understood that. Their friends would help Yami adjust to his new life, and Yugi would step back and try to get used to being one person again.

They'd both done remarkably well. Yami already knew most of what he needed to get by. Both adjusted to the quiet in their heads. They were at odds with having private thoughts but they could talk anytime, and once they were ready they could become the devilish duo everyone knew they could be.

Could be. Would not. Ready or not, they'd never closed the gap between them.

Yugi, for his part at least, had tried. He wasn't sure he could say the same for the others.

When he approached them, he would either be ignored, or told not to be clingy. That he needed to stand on his own for once.

Which was absurd. What had he been doing for years? True, maybe faced with Ushio and others he hadn't stood very well but he'd always gotten by. Even possessed by the spirit of the Millennium Puzzle most of the time it had been the spirit to lean on him, not the other way around. Yami had only intervened when he felt Yugi was in danger, and although some of that danger was very real, most often the threat was something humdrum and ridiculous. And while it was nice to finally have someone watching his back, the assumption that Yugi couldn't handle a cold or the idiot threatening to toilet paper his diorama was insulting. That they continued to assume that after all he'd been through with them was worse.

Had he followed them everywhere like a lost puppy? No.

Had he dithered hopelessly, unable to do anything for himself? _Non_.

Had he struggled to get through his daily grind? _Niet_.

He'd given them the space they'd asked for; their lives had all been riveted around him for so long after all. He'd told them about what he was doing, and he listened for updates, but space would be good for them.

He'd gotten a job – he knew grandpa's shop wasn't really how most the world worked, and besides, he needed to save for college. He'd met people, made other friends, despite the problems he'd once had. His marks had soared, rivalling even Kiaba's despite being younger. He'd joined the track team and made captain, the districts' best long distance runner even if he could only sprint to save his life. He'd won or placed in every race he'd been in for the last year. He was neither hopeless, nor lost, nor hurting.

At least not until he realised that his dearest friends were no longer his dearest... and maybe not friends at all. Even Grandpa was distant, doting one the newest member of the family.

It had seemed slow at the time but in hindsight it'd happened very quickly, over a matter of days, not weeks. They'd tuned him out more and more, usually outright ignoring him unless someone thought he'd done wrong or Yami wanted him to cover his shift at the shop. After a while the once spirit didn't even ask and just left, assuming Yugi would cover for him. He never heard what was going on, information neither offered nor supplied when he asked. Most families would be thrilled when their children got jobs – Solomon had been so angry that he'd nearly disowned his grandson, railing about how Yugi was 'abandoning the family business' when he was working there more than ever, and without pay. None of his new friends were 'trustworthy' and none of his achievements were ever worthwhile, and why did he always have to try to steal the spotlight from Yami? Was he jealous?

It felt like punishment. For what he didn't know.

Yugi had tried and tried to find what had made it so. What he'd done, or what he'd said – or what he hadn't – to so upset his friends and family. He'd asked them, and was rejected. He'd asked others to see what they'd heard or noticed, but they were as confused as he. He'd gone over every memory he could recall to discover what thoughtless act might have set this off, but nothing came. He'd even researched their behaviour, desperate for something to tell him that he could fix this. And all the while nothing changed; his ostracism for some unknown crime went on.

Tired, stressed, and alone in his own home, was it any wonder he'd fallen into depression?

And then, on Christmas break Solomon and Yami had left. He'd known nothing of it until he'd found the short note on the door telling him they'd be gone for three weeks, mind the shop and replace anything you use.

He'd been moved out by New Years.

* * *

The process had actually begun well before they'd left.

He had found support in the teachers and friends and peers who had watched the Mutou's home life spiral, splinter and shatter. Some had offered to put him up for a few days to get him away from the little game shop on the corner, others giving advice to the increasingly depressed Yugi, and sometimes a shoulder to lean on. But he was surprised to find his strongest ally in his sometimes rival, Seto Kaiba.

When, a mere five months after returning to Domino, Yugi's personal spiral had begun to reach more concerning levels he'd gone to a doctor and was prescribed anti-depressants. And he did feel better, if a little anxious for having to take the drug so often. A few weeks later a teacher saw him taking one of the pills in the school bathroom and confiscated them, fearing an illegal substance. The problem was eventually sorted with a call to the good doctor, but not before Solomon was involved. The baffled man gave a coarse cry – "Enough of this nonsense! Yugi's _happy_!" – ending the matter, but the damage was done.

The pills vanished from his room two days later. It would be a long week until Doctor Morgan would refill his prescription. He invested in a small safe.

His thoughts had travelled down their darkest paths that week, pushed farther by new flavours looks of shame, disappointment and disgust. But in catching a dangerous line of thought he didn't recognise as his own, he knew what he needed. It was not the Mutou family.

He cut out of school at lunch and caught Seto before he could leave for Kaiba Corp. The CEO shocked the world: Seto was more than ready to listen. They spent the afternoon talking.

Yugi filed for emancipation three days later.

Over the next few weeks he would often find things in odd places, not where he'd left them. Noticing a drop in his mail he searched the house, finding letters and tournament invites and bank statements stashed in his grandfather's room. He registered a post box. Reading the statements he found money spent in places he never went, clubs and restaurants, but he knew who did. He opened a new account after having a long chat with the banker, Seto and his lawyer.

The finally delivered subpoena was ignored, dismissed as a bad joke.

And then Solomon and Yami Mutou left.

And Yugi would leave them behind.

* * *

"Yugi?"

He blinked, glancing up at the clouds. Had they started the descent already?

"Yugi? You OK?" Concerned brown eyes filled his vision. Mokuba. The younger Kaiba bounced in front of him.

"Just thinking." He watched the clouds pass, now overhead. "Shouldn't you be buckled up?"

"Yes, he should."

The boy fled laughing from his brothers' gaze. They watched his settle further up the jet, next to a pale head. Kaiba turned back to him, blue eyes knowing, but silent.

"I'll be fine. Really." A hand waved, path drooping, gesture lazy. "Just... thinking."

The newspaper rose with a snap.

"... and thank you."

Eyes knowing, but silent.

* * *

**NOTES:**

Yes, I know Yami uncovered his name.

I don't know much about the emancipation process, but I figure it'd process quickly, in the interest of the child.

I have Yugi turning sixteen at the end of high school – he skipped a year in elementary and took heavy course loads in high school, but his marks dropped when the bullying started.

Also, I don't have a beta, so if you see an issue hit me please.

~Lost Socks


	3. Scene Two

"_Paths, once crossed, remain crossed."_

_**The Watcher King, Act One**_

* * *

**Scene Two:** The Open Road

In the months following their return, he would never know if he had been relieved or terrified when they realised that the place was empty, with a light coating of dust like the familiar gold box gaping and dark on the bed, its pictures and tokens in shreds. But passing by in the halls between classes or catching glimpses around town he would be struck by both how much and how little the other had changed.

By the time those fleeting glances finally ended and the young man disappeared entirely from them, he had begun to wonder if, just maybe, if those distant past and prophecies came to be if it would be no one's fault but their own.

* * *

The celebrated west coast, he decided, was overrated.

Yes, the arts were heralded. Yes, the scenery often bordered on divine. Yes, the surfing was amazing and no, he had not yet tasted a better halibut. And yes, the sea was as wide as the people were left-leaning.

And the neighbours were dicks. And half the great cities gleamed while half rotted. And in the north it never stopped raining, while in the south it never started until it did, and then it came by the bucket. And it was predictable.

Domino had never been predictable. Never mind the actual _happenings_: suffering from the combination of shore-effect and valley conditions, the day the weatherman was right was cause for real celebration. The usual day could call for sun but then require an umbrella – and possibly a parka – stowed about one's person, not an easy feat for anyone visiting and he _missed_ it the way a netted fish misses water.

Which was probably the depression talking, but there wasn't much he could do about that right now. This would be home. He hadn't fought for all those scholarships just to turn tail and run, especially not back to the place which had hurt him. He needed that the way he needed to be hit by a car. And what way was that to repay the Kaiba's who'd helped him so, raised his spirits, going so far as to fly him here and stay with him for a full two months before classes were to start?

Poor thanks indeed.

But today he was on his own. Ryou had left three days prior to prepare for his own freshman year across the pond in England, Kaiba was off with work, and Mokuba was with a tutor. So he, Yugi, was left to his own devices. He wandered down to the board walk where he now sat (in the rain, thank you very much) wondering what to do with himself. His friends had kept him so busy that even when he wasn't getting ready for the fast-coming semester he'd had no time left to himself, for which he thanked them. The less time he had to think about it right now the better. Not yet time. But what to do now?

He watched people pass by overhead, umbrellas bobbing like deranged fireflies in the flickering street lights. He didn't really want to move – at least it was dry under the pier – but the rain wouldn't let up for at least a few hours, and this was no place to spend a day, what with the sights and sounds and smells of sea lions wafting over him. One caught his eye, darting by the dock, a graceful behemoth under the glassy surface. (Elegant sea cow. Ha!) But then he saw something else, and he wondered.

Maybe he did have something to do.

* * *

The house was a large gate and stone affair, but not gaudy. Spare but tasteful and cosy, not spartan, not at all what the people he'd once known would have thought of coming from Seto Kaiba. He padded across the entry seeking the towel he knew Roland had left for him, bless the man. Finding it, he straightened and shouted his hellos to the household.

"Yugi!" The cry rolled to him from some distant corner, followed by the rapidly nearing thunder of the child's footsteps

"Hey, Mookie!"

The young voice drew near: "Where were you? We were worried! You've been gone all day! And don't call me that! And why wasn't your phone on? And - " A ball of black and red filled his vision just before he hit the floor, "And... What happened to your hair?"

A small laugh.

"Hello to you too."

* * *

When he'd started high school, a year early and on accelerated courses, this tiny thing with childlike countenance and no appetite for violence, at a school in a bad neighbourhood, he had rightly guessed his status as a punching bag. But, like many youths his age, he had been deluded into thinking that he too could look tough. He was mistaken. He'd dyed his hair and invested in leather and studs. He'd bought magazines and tried things that the kids in high school who didn't live in game shops were doing and seeing and buying. And he'd tried to fit in.

He'd failed spectacularly.

He'd abandoned most of his new accoutrements quickly, with no interest or reason to keep them, but he'd found he rather liked the leather, and had grown fond of the new hair style.

He doubted anyone except Solomon (and maybe the elderly couple next door) remembered his actual hair colour.

Which explained the looks he was getting for showing up with cropped, ungelled and wavy deep auburn hair, shot through with blond. His infamous fringe was in fact, natural, and so survive the massacre, while the rest was now just a marker at the side of the road, pushed aside by a crisis of faith and a particularly violent and complicit stylist.

It was strange. It was different. So _like_ him. So _un_like _him_.

It was worth it just for the look on Seto's face.

The man in the door composed himself and scanned the teen on the ground, sharp blue missing no detail. And dismissed with a glance.

"It suits you."

And that was more than he could have hoped for.

* * *

He felt like he was in a Halls tm tube, not crossing the wide central plaza heading to residence.

Damn eucalyptus trees, growing like weeds.

At least he wouldn't have to worry about getting a cold while he was here.

The fog was thick that afternoon over the city, hiding the mountain tops and spilling into the adjacent valleys – the top floors of the larger dorms disappeared from view. His own residence, appearing around the corner, was more 'condominium on the beach' than apartment tower, and the clouds drifted mere meters from the blue slated roofs.

Inside did very little to dissuade the beach house image. It was... white. His floor housed three single rooms and one double, each with their own little bathrooms, and a shared kitchen and living space, while the floor below had three doubles with their own kitchen and lounge. The few people already there peered out of these in fear and awe as Yugi passed with his entourage of Kaibas and attendant Kaiba staff.

"You know, they aren't going to eat me," he laughed back at Seto, who laid the cowering student body with life threatening glowers as he carried Yugi's duffle in, complete with SpongeBob and Dark Magician identifier tags.

Mokuba squeezed by his brother and ran up the stairs, bed-in-a-bag in hand, "You never know Yuug! After all, even I'm bigger than you are!"

"I resent that!"

Momentarily there came the sound of a short scuffle upstairs, of which there was curiously little evidence when Seto reached the landing. Mokuba had found Yugi's new room and both were suddenly distracted by inspecting it. It was, oddly enough, a light bluish-green. (A friend would later call it cucumber, not that they really cared, being teenage boys.) Shelves and a desk were built into one wall, complete with holes for wires. There were two doors leading off the entrance – one a micro-closet, the other a small bath. A simple bed and dresser occupied the remaining walls leaving just enough room for more shelves or a chest, or, if Yugi had his way, a bean bag. And plenty of room to move besides.

Yugi took a stance: "Well it's more than I had at the Game Shop. I'd say it's home." And with that he dumped his bags on the floor and draped over the bed.

An hour later saw him nearly unpacked ("Oh, look, they gave me bins!" "You're such a girl, Mutou") and watching as Seto deciphered the local network for him, a game of mancala open on the floor.

"So that's it? But that made sense!"

"So why are you complaining?"

"I'm not."

"Then be quiet." Seto sighed and leaned back. The chair creaked. He was glad he'd listened to the squirt and left his coat. They'd felt the heat move in after they reached the residence, burning off the heavy fogs. The skies were clear now. "Thousands of people use the networks daily. It has to be simple or someone will complain."

"I know, it's just-"

"They'll catch you somewhere else, I'm sure."

The boy groaned and flopped against his new sheets.

Kaiba started for the door just as a bodyguard in MIB apparel appeared.

"Going already?" Wide eyes faltered. Just for a moment. And then worry. "I haven't kept you, have I?"

The CEO waved him off. "Relax, Motou. Nothing is going to happen without me. But someone needs to meet his tutor."

"Aw, Seto!"

Yugi sniggered softly behind his hand.

"We'll be in town for a little longer. We'll see you Motou."

A suit arrived: "Master Kaiba, your ride is waiting."

Seto gave a crisp nod and faced back to Yugi, flipping something to the boy. "This is yours. If anything happens, call me first." With that, he strode to the door, missing Yugi's widening eyes and startled cry.

"But Seto-"

Mokuba leaned in for a quick hug knocking the air out of him and gave a whispered "No buts." He snitched the phone. "We're already in it, see? And we're your I.C.E. so no worries! We'll take care of you!" He struck a pose. "And you're going to the tournament with us right?" Seeing the shaky nod he tossed back the cell, "Alight. See you, Yugi!"

The energetic boy drove down the stairs, leaving Yugi dazed and confused – and a little winded.

He watched the car; nondescript and black, it pulled away from the building, a second car, backup, following at a discrete distance. His eyes trailed out the window until the motorcade was well out of sight down the road. He sat then, playing with his new phone, trying to distract himself from the growing tightness in his chest.

He'd be a fool to say he wasn't scared. He'd always been attached to the familiar people and places and things in his life, and he'd left almost everything behind when he left Domino after exams. He had not even waited for the graduation ceremony. It had already been over for him there long before then. No rambunctious Téa to cheer him, or Joey to joke with. No spirit to lean on. No family left to speak of. It seemed he was the last of all of them to finally release their once cherished bonds, and that done he'd left, looking for a new start. What little he'd had that he cherished had come with him, the friends he still had only a phone call away. He would walk this path hoping to find the life and the freedom he needed.

It was a lot to ask for, and he knew it. It scared him.

Although possibly not quite so much as the faces in his door had been.

Three heads leaned in, whispering conspiratorially.

"Dude, are they gone? Those suits are _freaky_."

* * *

**A.N.** I've invented a university in California, Schiaparelli College, named for Egyptologist Ernesto Schiaparelli and his father paleographer Luigi Schiaparelli, since as a rule I try not to use things I don't know about, and if I've written about something I don't know I'll say so. If anyone sees something incorrect in the details (or spelling) just say so and I'll see what I can do.

I'm putting Domino in North America (think Niagara, Toronto, or New York).

Schiaparelli College (SC) is a very prestigious school in Santa Cruz (who doesn't love Santa Cruz? Boardwalk!) which is devoted to history and the arts, and is a hot spot for archaeological pursuits. Yugi worked his tush off to get there, and won a huge scholarship – a single room in one of the nicest residences is part of the package. I've given the Kaibas a home in the same area – it does double duty since it is prime vacation area and it's near Silicon Valley.

Yugi's condo is higher end – privacy and technology and such. They're doled out on scholarships (earned the right to study in peace) and those rich enough to afford it, with priority given to scholarships. As such they're co-ed.

Mancala – A "count-and-capture" game with many variations.

I.C.E. = In Case of Emergency (not hard to figure out, but I didn't know till I saw it on my mom's cell...)


	4. Scene Three

"_Paths, once crossed, remain crossed."_

_**The Watcher King, Act One**_

* * *

**Scene Three:** Content was Always my Favourite Colour

* * *

They'd seen him in the news that afternoon, the sports headline for the day. _The 'King of Games' is at it again..._ He'd won a marathon out in White Rock, finishing more than five minutes before the next runner. Enthusiastically, the anchor continued describing Yugi's high school track record, a spectacular thing, and had gone on to say the young man might even make the next Olympic team if he kept it up, and to hell with card games.

They weren't listening.

They'd shown a clip of him, after the race. Bouncing to some beat they couldn't hear, so tiny next to the runners-up, but just as tired, ruined tresses stuck to his face, tank top slack and sweaty. And he looked so different. So happy.

They didn't even know he could run.

* * *

He'd been adopted. That was the only way to describe it.

Adopted by the most cheerful goth girl with flaming flamingo pigtails he had ever seen. And he'd seen a few.

"I am _not_ goth!"

"Fine. Punk. Goth. Whatever." They were loud cloths, either way. They said 'I'll give you indigestion.'

And if the way the combat boots (laced with mismatched purple and green laces) hit the ground was any indication that was the wrong answer.

* * *

It was Thursday, and that meant geology with Karim.

They were learning that Professor Doyle was one of the good ones, but the best teacher in the world couldn't have held their attention today for the waves were breaking at Steamer Lane in early afternoon, and they were going to miss it. The sun shone, the air was warm; if they hadn't had mid terms – cold water be damned – they'd have been there. Watching the novices and laughing their asses off.

Not that they'd have done any better, mind.

But at least they knew better than to try with witnesses around.

But alas: biochemistry. Or in Yugi's case, Septimus Severus.

So now they walked from to their rooms taking bets on what dinner would be that night when they got back. It was Elly's turn to cook tonight. She'd bought an apron with neon eye patches and skulls just for the occasion. They'd already been barred from their little kitchen, from which the dubious sounds of scattering cutlery and pans emerged.

They were rather concerned.

They'd tried to talk her out of it: she'd cooked her first night in the dorm, and had presented her curious roommates with a wonderful smelling baked chicken which tasted like car tires and felt like used condoms. Her next night had unveiled a casserole with the consistency of brick. Her third was no better, and they were not impressed, but she wouldn't relinquish her night, claiming her 'sweetie' (Yugi winced) required proper nourishment and she would provide.

Yugi wondered if her clothes were only parroting the message. He said as much to Karim.

"Possibly." His eyes sparkled as he took on a pose reminiscent of the professor and leaned in conspiratorially. "You know, some creatures have flashy colours to warn predators that they are toxic. Like some flowers, butterflies... frogs..."

"Karim!" Not sure if he was gagging appalled or snorting in laughter, he narrowly avoided spewing V8 out his nose. "Don't say that." Still unsure, he gave an awkward, jolting laugh.

"Sorry, sorry!"

Yugi sighed – he needed to break that habit – and paused thoughtfully. Even back then, fresh from middle school and in the midst of his greatest delusions, he'd had trouble seeing himself in that role. "So does that make us predators?"

"Well, she is our food source, isn't she?"

There was an obvious answer. He bit it back.

* * *

Dinner was a surprisingly good enchilada on which they would blame all which came after.

* * *

_Everything moved, a steady bumping, rolling forwards in the half light._

_They'd ridden much of the night before and on into the morning, breaking to sleep in the heat of the day and then ride on that evening, hopefully to reach the Lord's city by daybreak. All haste – great tidings deserved it._

_And was a treaty with the Badu not great tidings?_

_He thought to the swaths of smooth foreign cloths and other fantastic goods riding behind him. The sheer possibilities. The council would be hard pressed to doubt him now. Not when two of those most opposed had so praised him – an act which must have been hard to swallow. For the priest especially._

_And so they rode on over the moving hills in the half light when even the sands seemed too tired to drift._

_Until a chorus broke the quiet in a flurry of hard edges and fluttering dark robes and floundering bodies, sundered at the first touches of Re._

_His last thought before the darkness took him was how lovely the distant walls were in the angry red light._

* * *

Yugi woke and hit the floor. Heart beating, blood rushing, muscles spazzing. He groaned.

"What the hell?"

Dreaming. He'd been dreaming.

The clock flashed midnight. The sun said differently. A quick fumble for his watch (which was definitely not where he left it) confirmed it was six fifty. He wouldn't be late for class if it weren't the weekend.

And it was too bright to sleep. Joy.

He dragged himself out of his room towards caffeine and noise, tripping over his books as he went. (He hadn't left them out, had he?) He found a pot already brewed and winced at the taste. Gods, he didn't even like coffee.

But it did the trick.

Grimacing at the bitterness but too lazy to do anything about it, he wandered over to a couch where his housemates had already gathered around the television. Short nods greeted his graceless collapse in the corner chair. Azara pulled a face at the sight of his drink and threw a creamer at him. It caught the rim of the mug and fell in. ("Alright!" Lazy applause as Nick moved too long hair out of his face. "Two points!") "Quake wake you?"

"Wha-?"

A round of snickers circled the group. That was Yugi for you.

"There was a six pointer around four this morning," she gestured to the pruned woman on the TV screen who was waving importantly at two imposing looking targets on a map, "just north of San Fran."

Elly yawned. "The one just now was probably a four point five. Ish. No biggy."

Karim grumbled something like 'damn locals.'

"Hey! I'm from Rhode Island!"

Nick laughed, pushing cornflower locks back again. "And Yugi slept through both of them. And them." He tried to keep laughing though a yawn and failed. "You left coffee in the pot?"

Yugi nodded and he wandered into the kitchenette. Odd that he'd sleep though it (although it did explain how he'd ended up on the floor, with many of his possessions) but it did explain his dreams.

Elly collided with him. "Ooh! Dreams? Tell! Tell!"

"Umm.. I was in a car talking to Seto, but the car turned into the coaster on the docks, and Seto just kept on talking like normal until it turned back. Which actually was pretty normal... And then I was riding somewhere on a camel. I was had something to tell people in the city, but I was attacked and I think I died." Expectant looks. "What?"

"Yugi, you suck at this storytelling thing."

"Dude."

"What? I guess I think I might've been an ambassador or something. And the guys who killed me died randomly at the end... come on. I just woke up."

Disappointed nods met him. Elly was already facing the news, thoughtful look on her face. There were already cries of 'the next Big One' and more calm warnings of aftershocks to hit the area. There was little major damage. Mostly broken windows and a few cracked walls. A house near the epicentre had had its roof collapse. The dorm had lost a few cups and a plate. Life moves on and by Monday most of Santa Cruz would have forgotten.

And meanwhile, it was getting hot outside.

* * *

**A.N. **At this point it wouldn't hurt to point out that scene titles are from songs, and will stay that way for as long as possible: "Flawed Design" by Stabilo, "Open Road" by Rawlins Cross, "content was always my favourite colour" by the Most Serene Republic. "A Ripple in Time" is a play off of a book by Madeleine L'Engle, "A Wrinkle in Time" and "The Watcher King" is mine. I'm also trying to use them for imagery, so keep an eye out for anything that harkens to the title, even if it doesn't seem to have anything to do with anything just yet.

White Rock, BC, Canada, named for the giant white rock on the beach. Semiahmoo myths say it was thrown there by a Native American chieftain. These days they have to paint it to keep it white. Graffiti.

Septimus Severus – Roman General, made emperor. He was basically a military dictator.

Yes, Yugi can cuss. He's a teenager.


	5. Scene Four

**A.N. **First - a very short chapter to prove I'm alive and still writing - I just had the genius idea to take Latin and Ancient Greek at the same time, so I'm kinda busy.

Quick note to my reviewers: thanks so much for your responses, I love getting feed back or just encouragement. Just please don't feel snubbed if I don't write back - for some reason answering e-mails and reviews fall under the same category as talking to answering machines. I always feel so strange doing that... -_-; don't ask me why. But I thank you all the same! ~ Lost Socks

* * *

"_Paths, once crossed, remain crossed."_

_**The Watcher King, Act One**_

* * *

**Scene Four:** Sunday Morning

* * *

The letter came on Friday.

It had no return address, and its stamps had pink roses on waves. Inside was an invite to an Industrial Illusions tournament and a post-it.

_They sent it with mine again. Sorry._

* * *

He'd been having a dream about fighting a water demon (with a pen light, which didn't strike him as very effective, but apparently it was) to save the country when Elly ran in bubbling something about beached melon.

Or sea lion. Whatever. It was early. Noon could be early. Really.

Which was why a mug was shoved under his nose and he was shortly dressed and on his way to the boardwalk.

Skirting the odd debris from the previous week's quakes, they meandered down to the sands in silence.

"So why are we here again?"

Elly sighed. She knew she couldn't expect much from someone who'd just finished pulling three consecutive all nighters. "The girls at Starbucks were talking about the sea lions," she flapped her hands out lightly in the general direction of the sound, "and the whales are in the area so I thought we'd have a look."

He thought he could have looked that afternoon.

"When the heat kicks in? It's your own fault for not doing those projects earlier."

Boots clunking on the boards she turned to face him, prancing backwards, grinning:

"'Sides! I haven't done this since I left home, and _you've_ probably never seen them outside an aquarium, 'an seeing the whales on your own is lame." Giving a self-satisfied nod she spun again, righting her course, and dragged Yugi to the end of the pier.

"Look! See?"

Sure enough in the distance several dark shapes were making themselves known, rounded backs breaking the waves, almost sizzling in the unusual heat.

A spout drew the attention of the masses, and the railing quickly grew crowded. They watched the whales leave in an odd, drowsy sort of silence even the sea lions seemed unwilling to break.

Yugi peered around and poked his friend. Interesting as they were, didn't whales usually bring excitement and loud children? Small children were hardly lacking on the wharf and the reverent silence was mildly unnerving. What type of whales were they, anyway, to get such a reaction?

"Hells if I know."

As if a spell broken by the noise, the whales dove and the stillness lifted as the crowd began to move away.

"Well, I dragged you out here, how about we find you some breakfast?"

* * *

"You look like a truck hit you."

They were eating in the Kaiba's home, having offered Yugi refuge for his reading week.

"Love you too Seto." Yugi yawned. "Class projects."

Seto gave him a hard look which clearly said 'And like a dumbass you left it to the last minute' although he'd have never been caught saying such a thing.

"What? Not my fault. They were all assigned in the same three days and we were given a week to do them." He sighed – Seto whacked him, "Right, right, no sighing. But at least I'm scot-free until exams. Anyway, when's the opening for the tournament?"

"Seven. First round is at eight. We leave as soon as we're done." They finished eating in silence and gathered their things when Seto ventured to speak again:

"The geek squad will be there."

Yugi barely flinched, "I expected as much." He caught himself sighing before Seto could reach over, and got in the car. "Actually... I wanted to ask you about him."

Cool blue waited.

"You were one of Atem's priests, right? I-I know you don't like it! But – please – let me finish." Kaiba loosened his jaw. Slightly. Yugi breathed. "In the shadow game, the memory world, he acted strangely. And remembering his past doesn't cover it. He _still_ doesn't remember anything but a couple names and Zork, and no one thinks he'll ever get anything more. So it can't be that."

Seto shifted in his seat, watching, his guarded eyes suddenly thoughtful.

Yugi laboured on:"But he was different. He's always been hard. Even when he was being considerate he was being hard, he has edges everywhere. He was insane. Killed without thought. Drove people mad. And even when the madness passed he never really felt guilt. But in the Game... In the Game he was... soft. No, not soft. Open, maybe? Generous. Or just kind... Yami is not kind, by any stretch. Everything he did was different. His mannerisms were gone. His way of speech. He had charisma! Yami has _never _had charisma. Attitude, sure. But people come to Yami because he looks good, because he's famous, because-because he's this dangerous bad boy who they'd rather not piss off so they make friends. Not because he's actually worth following or can speak to the heart.

"Yami is nothing like that Atem. He is not that Atem. But we also know that the pharaoh in the Game was Atem as he was... neither the demon nor the thief created that world. Which made me think... if that game wasn't a duel, it was role-playing. Yami just filled the role. He acted the Pharaoh, but he isn't him. But if I'm right, if he isn't Atem... then who _is_ he? And who, for that matter, is the Pharaoh?"

Seto said nothing, frowning darkly at the steering wheel as they pulled out of the drive.

"... I'm right, aren't I."

He didn't respond. What was the point?

* * *

He'd never really understood how Duels got to be this popular – they had been a craze long before Seto had developed his holograms.

But San Francisco was abuzz tonight and cities up and down the coast were alight with tournaments and festivals this week. This was but the first night of many.

The opening rounds went off without a hitch. Lots were drawn, matches set and ended, and half the tournament hopefuls knocked out within the space of half an hour.

Seto, struck with a spectacular opening hand, had eliminated his own opponent before the poor boy had had a chance to draw a single card, but he had left laughing that if nothing else he could tell people he'd gotten his ass handed to him by none other than Seto Kaiba, and he'd gotten to see the feared CEO get chewed out by both his rival and his little brother. A fair consolation prize.

Yugi's own match had taken only slightly longer but was no less decisive – he then got bored waiting for his ride (who had to give a speech at the end of the night – something about the technology) and took to giving advice to passing duel enthusiasts, all more than happy to listen to the unbeatable Game King.

More than once he glimpsed a familiar set of heads drifting though the crowds of revelers, but they never approached and he never sought them out.

Although he suspected Seto may have done something to keep them away. He'd have to ask him later.

But just once he'd caught a glimpse of his once-other though the crowds and could not suppress a shiver. He stood by all that he'd said to the elder Kaiba, and the black look in blood red eyes did nothing but reinforce his position.

He'd ask Seto for Ishizu's number later, too.

He knew what the Shadows did to a soul, but something always remained.

And that sure as hell was not the Pharaoh.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **'Sunday Morning' by Maroon 5 because he missed it :D

I wanted to make this longer, but it'll continue in the next chapter - this just felt like a very natural place to end. Also, not sure how clear this is, but this all takes place on the same day.

Yugi has a Saturday class – Canadian universities give them, I assume US ones do too.

Reading week, for the uninitiated in the ways of university, is a break. The winter one is March Break, and often takes place in February. :D

This tournament may or may not be the same one Mokuba mentions in Scene Two. Haven't decided. It doesn't actually matter.

Also, as has been pointed out, Yugi's description of Yami is highly uncharitable: there is a reason for this, but as the Atem-Yami identity crisis is a plot device and plot point I refuse to discuss it just yet. Also, Yugi, strong front or no is hurting and has correctly divined just who is the ultimate cause of his pain. Lashing out is to be expected.


End file.
